


Moonlighting

by JeanSouth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asahi just wants to drink his coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlighting

When Asahi looked up from his soy latte, there was a small demon in the chair opposite him, and a business card slid onto his book.

Nishinoya Yuu, it read in scrawling black print that seemed slightly too hasty to be elegant. Life ensurance sales executive salesdemon.

There was a complex logo in the bottom right corner, and several mobile phone numbers were present. No website, no address. Odd. Asahi took a moment to sip his latte, debating how to tell the demon he had a spelling error on his business card. As a fierce warrior of the light who only had infrequent moments of fierceness, and moonlighted as a guardian angel during the downtime of holy wars, Asahi found it rather stressful to point out spelling mistakes to demons. They were quite touchy. He always felt bad when the baristas had to clean up the mess.

“I think,” he tried to start gently, and the salesdemon perked up. “You have a small error here. It’s insurance, not ensurance. A lot of people make that mistake, even some of the angel clerics up there-” they did not make that mistake “-do it on the rare occasion…”

Cringing slightly, fluttering out his wings a little to shield nice plants beside him, he glanced up as he was greeted with laughter.

“Common assumption,” the salesdemon shook his head and leaned forward on his elbows. “But wrong. I don’t want to sell you a payout when you die. I want to sell you the thought of no death. Eternal life, or your money back. I’m here to ensure you’ll live forever.”

His grin was wide, and dangerous. Not dangerous in the typical way of trying to incite revolt in the masses or ruining a bakesale, but the kind of dangerous of being handsome. Demons weren’t meant to be handsome, or pint-sized, or so energetic that Asahi worried of the force that energy could bring.

“In that case,” he folded his hands, and tried to slide the business card back across the table. Nishinoya, he thought as he glanced down, certain that someday he would be trouble. The card was slid back towards him quickly, then on second thought, placed back in his book. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m already immortal.”

Quickly, he placed the business card to Nishinoya’s left and closed his book, making more noise than strictly intended. He leant to slip it into his bag, zipping it closed as an afterthought. He may have spent longer than strictly necessary leaning down under that table. If he were honest, he had leant down to try to make a plan. He came back up with the knowledge that the demon wore a sort of leather cowboy boot and his jeans were frayed at the hem. Something about it was endearing.

“That’s an honest point,” Nishinoya nodded, leaning over all the while to tuck his card into the breast pocket of Asahi’s crisp button up shirt, giving him a quick smile as he retreated. “But wouldn’t you like to keep this life going? Wouldn’t you like to go about your job, and when someone shows up to throw a fireball at your charge when they’re doing the dishes, you show up? ‘Stop!’ you’ll say, and the demon’ll take two looks at you and realize you have life ensurance! Your life is ensured! Or your money back! And your money back is gonna come outta that demon, and no one likes to lose that much money in demon court in one day!”

He made a fair point, hands waving all over the place, the wispy strands of his hair bouncing back and forth with his movement. He had that glint in his eye that Daichi used to have before a holy battle – or a holy battle training session. The look of someone who was not giving up. Asahi had no chance in the matter against such conviction.

“How much?” he asked cautiously, with full intent to tell the demon to find him in his next life if it was far too expensive. He frowned slightly as Nishinoya looked flabbergasted.

“I’d have to,” he hesitated visibly for a moment, though it was only a brief one that was chased away by a stream of words soon after. “Go over our plans for you. See which one would best fit for an angel of your status. What status is your angelness anyway? You seem a bit big for a cherub, but twice as cute…”

Asahi’s face lit up. He hid it under pretending to look for his receipt that had flown away, and prepared to launch into a life story. A couple of angel wars, a few mutinies he’d gotten dragged into, and settling into a comfy guardian angel role. Not much interesting. As he started, and got partway, and stopped for a cappuccino, he had to admit the demon did a good job of looking interested.

-

Next they met was several cities over, further down the country. He’d found a small tea shop, by a river. It was too remote to be crowded, with plastic chairs but handcrafted mugs. Five minutes before Nishinoya was due to arrive, he checked the coast for messengers, or pixies (tattle tails), and conjured wicker chairs instead, then on afterthought gave them cushions. The owner would think he’d always had them. Nervously, Asahi cupped his hands around his tea and glanced at the cloud-shrouded sun.

What was he even thinking? Liaising with demons! Of course they had to run a business, and make a living, and this seemed better than most livings many demons made! If anything, he was encouraging good business practice. Just as he finished convincing himself, Nishinoya slowly faded in from the distance with a duffel bag. He looked recently showered. Asahi had the distinct suspicion he’d just been to the gym.

“Afternoon!” Nishinoya called from a small distance away, and crossed it with leaps and bounds. As he sat, he craned his neck to see the owner through the door, raising his voice to make his order, and ask pretty, pretty please for some snacks to tide them over. The phrasing was oddly specific – tide them over to what?

“Afternoon,” he replied after a while, realizing the odd look he was getting was for his silence. “Nice day, isn’t it? Not too hot…”

The weather was always a safe bet.

“Yeah!” Nishinoya grabbed onto the subject, sitting back in his chair. He motioned as if to curl up in it, thinking better of the idea midway. Asahi figured he was a blankets and armchair kind of demon after a long day in hell. “I kinda like it a bit hotter than this – reminds me of home – but the breeze is good! People get so irritable when it’s too hot. Can’t see you getting real irritable, though.”

He tacked on the last, and used the interruption from his tea as an excuse to conjure a contract, and a bright-green booklet with bold lettering.

“This,” he waved at the booklet. “Contains all our plans. If I just – ah, there – flip to page six, that’s the plan I wanna offer you! A single feather for every near brush with death. We’ve got this deal with death, you know? He files a report when one of our clients gets one foot in the door and we collect payment.”

Asahi opened his mouth, ready to ask-

“Don’t give me that look!” Nishinoya interrupted teasingly. “Why would I take payment of feathers? Just the one? You have thousands! And they grow back!”

His hands were all over, and at one point brushed the feathers in question. Asahi shivered slightly – Nishinoya’s hands were hotter than the average, like standing close to a furnace in winter after being out in the snow, hauling in logs for a wood fire near a soft, overstuffed couch…

Asahi gripped his cup harder, and firmly pushed the thoughts to elsewhere. Maybe he had a cabin in rural Scotland. Maybe it wasn’t a cabin but an old lighthouse. Maybe it had a log fire, and yeah, sure, maybe he wanted someone to share it with, but those were maybes, and they weren’t on the register of Maybes That Were Actually Things That Were Real, and he would not be sharing it with a demon that would be very good at stoking fires. Maybe he was a tiny bit lonely. That wasn’t something to think about.

“Well!” Nishinoya broke him from his reverie. “Angels don’t really go handing out their feathers. You guys don’t much shed. And here’s the weird thing – they’re kind of collector’s items down under, if you follow me. You know that one angel? The one without the sense of humour? Ushijima, I think? I see by your face I’m right. Only one demon down under managed to get his feather – got so close as to pluck one, and made it out alive! Trust me that he has not shut up about it since. Live angels feathers? They make a good buck, get you some nice favours… And I’m not risking my butt to pluck you!”

He finished by seating himself properly in his chair again, having almost unseated himself in his animated hand gestures. If Asahi had to to describe him as a punctuation, it would be threehundred exclamation marks, in bold, in a 96 point font. Larger than life. Over the top.

“That seems… really logical,” Asahi had to admit. His wings fluttered subconsciously, displeased by the thought of being plucked. “No hidden catches?”

“None,” Nishinoya slid him the contract. It was ironclad, but fair. Asahi was encouraging fair business practices. He did not deliberately brush hands with Nishinoya. The salesdemon. It wasn’t like they’d see eachother again. As he signed his name, Nishinoya insisted on a celebration dinner. He knew a great Italian place down the road.

-

Several hours later, Asahi was slightly tipsy, and delivered back to heaven by an equally tipsy demon, avoiding the stern looks from the angels on duty. He couldn’t remember half the night more clearly than impressions of Nishinoya’s wicked – no pun intended – sense of humour about hell, incredibly good food, and swapping anecdotes about mutual acquaintances without thought. Nothing was more clear than the impression of a really, really good time.

-

The next morning was less good. Ushijima was Unimpressed, and Kuroo kept giving him Looks of commiseration. Ushijima didn’t like Kuroo’s boyfriend either. Asahi personally liked Bokuto.

And Nishinoya was not his boyfriend.

-

About two weeks later, Asahi went back to the Italian place. He couldn’t get the taste of the lasagna out of his mind, and sat in the left corner of the restaurant, overlooking the other tables. He was not looking for conversation. He just liked people watching.

“Can I have,” he paused, glancing at the wine card, remembering he had a white wine last time, and it was Californian. There was only one of the list, so he pointed and hoped. “This one, please?”

With a nod, his waiter disappeared. It was a really nice restaurant. Sort of crowded, lots of decoration. Nothing too expensive to repair, so a demon could technically attack here, and Nishinoya would have to show up, and the wine would still be fine after -

After nothing. He wasn’t baiting a demon attack.

He just took a path through a back alley on the way to a stairway to heaven after, and didn’t quite look where he was going.

Halfway down, a sorry excuse for a lower level demon tried to mug him.

“Hands up!” he shouted, ritual dagger in hand, the scent of healing herbs about him. Modern medicine, in Asahi’s opinion, worked better. He steeled himself for confrontation.

“No chance-” he started, and found himself cut off again. Demons just kept cutting him off. It was kind of rude.

“Man,” the demon lowered his ritual knife, then stuck it back in his back pocket. Asahi winced on reflex; he’d seen plenty of warriors with sore buttocks from trying that (a story he was sure Nishinoya would like to hear). “Of all the people to walk down my alleyway.”

He looked sort of put out, like he’d had a long day. It was easy to feel sorry for him before remembering he’d just tried to mug Asahi.

“Sorry?” he tried, awkwardly shifting to put his hands in his trouser pockets. He never knew what to do with his hands.

“I just wanted to fill up my crime quota and go home, you know?” He sighed. Asahi didn’t know. “And of all people you walk down my alley. I can’t mug the boss’s boyfriend, you know? He’d go mad. Some manticore tried to grab you three weeks ago and he still has an earache!”

Three weeks ago was before his contract started, Asahi thought inanely.

Boyfriend, he thought after, gobsmacked, and turned to continue up his stairway to heaven. He was still flabbergasted as he plodded through the pearly gates, sending St Peter a half-hearted wave. He was speechless as he threw himself face first onto his particular cloud, ignoring the smattering of rain that fell on a village in eastern Idaho.

They had dinner, he supposed, as he turned over, staring off into space. It didn’t really make them boyfriends, per se. No – start from the beginning.

He wasn’t minding the idea of being boyfriends, per se. He was kind of liking it. Every cockle in his heart felt warmed, and as an angel, he had rather a few of them. They could be as warm as his cabin log fire.

What if the demon was messing with him? Asahi tossed and turned for a good few hours, before he frowned, and fell through his cloud to land in the alley where he’d found the demon.

“Excuse me,” he called out politely, “I need you to come with me.”

The demon reluctantly crept from his ambushing spot.

“Where to?” he squinted suspiciously.

“Scotland.”

-

Scotland was snowy. His log fire was out.

“Attack me,” Asahi asked, in a polite tone of voice, as he was a polite angel and there was no need for rudeness. The demon made a face like he was trying to solve advanced arithmetic in his head, so Asahi tacked on, “Please”, and took the fireball to the face to save his décor.

With one hand, he patted the slight flame from the tips of his hair.

Nishinoya, on the other hand, arrived with the sound of the universe being rended in to two, which incidentally sounded like a roar from the center of the earth, where hell was conveniently located. The demon cowered. It did nothing to quell Asahi’s righteous determination; angels had dibs on that kind of thing.

“You dare-!” Nishinoya started, then took in the scene. Asahi shivered, considering how cold it was. He looked confused, but banished the lower level demon with a wave of his hand, and shifted awkwardly. Behind him, the cosmos sewed itself shut and left only the faint sound of the sea.

“Am I your boyfriend?” Asahi blurted out first before he lost his nerve.

“I’d like you to be,” Nishinoya looked at the floor, and seemed nearly shy. “If you’d like.”

He twined his fingers together, and shuffled slowly closer to Asahi, purposely bumping in to him after a while.

“I’m not very good at pick up lines,” Nishinoya added to the silence. “I just wanted an in to talk to you. It got a bit out of hand.”

A bit, Asahi wanted to mimic, but his brain wasn’t quite caught up. He flicked on a light, and motioned to the door.

“Would you get some firewood?”

He had a boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while! Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
